


Burgers with a Side of Tea

by Olimaru



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: High School, M/M, Multi, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olimaru/pseuds/Olimaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a University/Highschool AU</p><p>I wrote this like 5 years ago and just now decided to finally submit it.<br/>Well...enjoy? xD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burgers with a Side of Tea

If I told you my life was perfect to the point that even God himself was jealous, would you believe me? Well my life actually is, everyone is upset at the fact that I’m the only one in school who gets whatever he wants. It’s not that I complain to them or that I whine so much that I have to get my way, they just do it. The life every high school kid wishes for I guess, but there is only one flaw to this perfection. 

That’s just it; everything must be perfect, even their own son who is keeping a secret from them that he absolutely can’t tell them. The country is talking about it, some in support but the majority are against the idea, which gets me so frustrated to the point I want to bash in a wall. The people are supposed to have “some” common sense but how they are acting is just absurd. Then again, I’m supposed to be talking about my own life story here, so let me begin with my fancy description.

I’m terrible at writing, but you can probably figure that out already, so I’ll just start and put an end to this procrastination. Five-foot-eight in height, blonde hair the color of the sun on a summer day, and emerald-green eyes like the pure tasting British tea I have every morning with a vanilla scone. I dress myself in formal attire, blazer and tie. I was raised to have my head held high and to always aim for the best, so my clothes should resemble such as well. I receive only the top-notch grades and have been accepted into Harvard. Yeah, I am in grade twelve; the brain-suicidal year.

 

Let’s begin this story with an average day of my life, shall we? Another test, another fight in the cafeteria, another dull and boring day. This was it, the all boys school known throughout the district as “The World’s Academy,” kind of makes sense really. We have people from basically every country you can think of. Yet to be honest, I don’t understand how everyone can actually survive living in this place for four years. I came here last year, and even I want to jump off the roof, face first into the hard cement of the “teachers only” parking lot. Seriously, more than half the school has cars and drives but this “private school of excellence” is too cheap to even afford to have a separate parking lot for the students. It’s pathetic really.

Judge me however you want but everyone says this, not just me. The school is five kilometres from the next school, its all girls. You can probably guess what the guys do with their uncontrollable hormones at night when the teachers are sleeping. This whole school makes me sick but we are men, I suppose that’s all we think about in between exams and tests. I don’t deal with that stuff, it’s unimportant to me and I never really considered having a relationship, more of a “quick shag” really. Back to what I was saying, this place was my home for two years, including the one I’m currently in. We all live on the campus with a single roommate, for which we have no say into choosing. I have no idea who this happy kid was, but I didn’t like him at all. His name is Alfred Jones and let’s just say if he had a “happy metre” attached to his head, it would burst and hit the sky. 

We always ate together in the café but he would talk and talk about sports and all that and I would be either reading or ignoring him, mostly both. The weird thing was, I could have switched rooms with someone but I decided not to for some reason. We have a project to do together on the biology between the opposite sex, all the guys were excited for this because we needed to perform an expieriment on a woman, yeah you can understand what they were thinking. I told Alfred right from the beginning I wasn’t into that stuff, so he backed off right away. “Arthur! Arthur!,” there he goes calling my name again like a lost child in a toy store. “What do you want, brat?,” I was busy typing the essay part of the project. “Oh come on Kirkland, you said you were going to help me with this!” We were trying to create a chart to show the differences between male and female. There he was with glitter in his dirty-blonde hair and streamers hanging from his glasses. 

I stared in awe questioning how this nut-case could function with little to nothing of a brain. “Give me that, you’re doing it wrong,” I took the marker from him, for which he was drawing moustaches on the pictures of nude men and women. “Like this, idiot,” I wrote the proper body parts on the chart for which he failed to print properly, typing it in such a small font that not even a mouse could read it. “Aw yeah! Thanks, you’re so smart!,” he proceeded to ruffle my hair like a puppy. He always does this, making me blush like a schoolgirl. “Damned American…,” I whispered under my breath. Here, drink the damned tea I made for your spoiled arse!,” practically throwing the cup at him. “Whoa, chill dude!,” he flinched and looked at me puzzled. I slouched in my bean bag chair, taking my novel with me for which I planned on finishing that night. I covered my red face with the book right away, “Get our you idiot! Go hang out with those football people.” “Who? Oh you mean soccer! You British people are so funny!,” he laughed loudly and bent his back, head banging backward toward the ceiling. I threw the five hundred paged book at the bastard. “What the hell was that for?!,” rubbing his head in confusion. He saw my face. He saw the redness of my cheeks, he saw me looking at him like a dog looks at a steak. “Dude? You okay? Something wrong?” Alfred stood up, walking towards me in concern. My knees were quivering at his cute face, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I kicked him out of the dorm. That has been happening for about three weeks and the bloke still won’t figure it out that I’m crushing on him.

 

What was that just now? Did I say something wrong that would offend a British guy? Maybe I drank his tea wrong? He’s been kicking me out of the dorm for weeks now, I’m starting to get a cink in my neck from sleeping on the couch in the game room. I walked towards the pinball machine trying to get rid of all this stress, “Sweet! 5000!” I got the high score again. Arthur always buys me a drink after this, I’ll accept nothing but Coca-Cola. The stuff might be bad for you, but it’s in my blood. “Hey Al!,” I turned to see that perverted Frenchman, Francis. “H-hey what’s up?,” I scratched the back of my neck nervously. I’m never alone, Arthur and I are usually together if he’s not busy studying at this time of night. “Bonjour Alfred! The Russian is having a party over at his girlfriends dorm, want to go?” He swung his arm over my shoulder, I could smell the cheap wine on him.

I hate it when the guys are like this, and Ivan’s parties are always on a Friday so people can get so smashed on vodka they are having hangovers for two days straight. I followed Francis, against my better judgement because I knew I would be alone that night. Walking up the stairs toward the room, I could hear the booming and yelling from three floors down. “Where are the dorm advisors?” I whispered to Francis. “Oh, Ivan sent Yao to take care of them, sent them for a free buffet at his family’s Chinese restaurant, no big deal.” I smacked my forehead at hearing his typical stereotype attitude. We continued our way up the stairs, the scent of maple syrup was in the air. “Oh boy! Some party, eh?” 

The Canadian greated us at the top of the stairs, already a bit tipsy from the amount of beer he engulfed, reaking of marijuana too. Francis put one of Matthew’s arms over his shoulder and brought him back inside the party. Loud, convulsing, and dark were my first thoughts about the room. I swear, the whole school must have been there, sounds crazy to assume I know, but Ivan’s girlfriend was the principal’s daughter. She got whatever and whoever she wanted. “Hey! Over here!” Ivan called us over toward the couches, his arms around two hardly dressed girls. “Comrades!”, he hugged me with his inhuman strength, lifting me about three feet off the ground. He wasn’t fond of me. Ever since I stole his “free ice-cream” voucher in first year. Francis gave his wine bottle and switched for Ivan’s vodka bottle. 

Together they swung both their heads back and drank the remainder of the liquor in both bottles. “So uh, where is everyone else?”, I asked while grabbing a rum and coke. “Ludwig is picking a fight with his older brother Gilbert who invited himself to a damned high school party when the fool is in college. The Vargas brothers are doing what Italians do best, flirting with the group of ladies surrounding them, and Kiku is entertaining my guests with his katana skills, making them sushi,” it didn’t take him long to ask me, “Where is Arthur?” I cringed in my chair and took a sip of my drink nervously. What was I supposed to say? I panicked as his face was getting closer to mine in frustration. “Where is he, Alfred? Did you force feed him burgers again making him sick?” I couldn’t think of anything so I just rapidly nodded my head. 

Ivan grasped my shoulder so hard that I thought my arm would fall off. “Good! I don’t want you lying to me Alfred, da?”, smiling innocently like a child as if he was going to choke me with his scarf. Suddenly I was grabbed from my seat by Gilbert, the eldest one there being as hyperactive as ever. This guy was obsessed with beer almost as much as her was obsessed with wurst. It only made sense that he would be the one to call “Keg stand!” Gilbert gave me to his beast-like brother Ludwig and they surely flipped me. I drank so much that night that I lost conciousness for a few hours. I wonder if Arthur will be okay by himself.

I’ve been pacing my room for hours! I can’t even read my book in peace with all that noise coming from down the street. “That ass-hat is probably off at that damned party,” I said to myself. What is wrong with that bloody fool? I pray Francis didn’t get a hold of him, that frog can really bring trouble. “England….England! Open the door!” I heard moaning from the other side of my door. Only Alfred and I had that codename for each other, our countries names. It must be him! “America! What did you-,” he cut me off before I could ask him. He fell into my arms, in tears. “Are you drunk or something?” I could smell the booze on him. We just stood there in the doorway for a few moments silent, until he finally spoke. “I know Arthur, I knew the whole time…” I gasped for air. How could he?! Was I that obvious?! “You’re drunk, you’re imagining things again.” I tried to brush him off but he pinned me to the wall, slamming the door behind him. I was caught in his gaze and couldn’t help but stare into his crystal-blue eyes full of salt water. “I feel the same…” he collapsed. 

We stood there together for a little until my knees got weak and I sank to the floor, Alfred following. Cradling him like the baby he was. Innocent, childish and foolish for falling for someone like myself. “You’ll be the death of me,” I kissed him on the head as would a mother and fell asleep holding him in my arms. Little did I know that this would be the start of a completely not perfect life. Totally not my style at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I still can't believe I read this infront of my class...


End file.
